


Empty Glass

by fab_fan



Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [4]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Not as fluffy, Season Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: “Ramshorn.” Anacostia sighed.“Don’t.” Scylla ground out. “Don’t act like this wasn’t going to happen.”“You can’t do this to yourself.”“Do what?” she chuckled, no humor in her tone, “Get a drink? Have we lost that freedom, too?”
Relationships: Anacostia Quartermaine & Scylla Ramshorn, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755784
Comments: 70
Kudos: 329





	Empty Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Drunk Scylla was mentioned.
> 
> You all might hate me.

It was a slow night. Most people had work the next day, and not much happened on a Wednesday night anyways. No band or good drink specials. No rowdy kids from the nearby community college or holiday parties. Just a few regulars sipping at their beers, the happy hour crowd, or what constituted one at this little place on a weeknight, were long gone, most having one glass of wine or bottle of beer with coworkers and friends before heading home to their families and laptops. 

The bar wasn’t too long, scarred wood, pock marked and chipped. It hadn’t been painted or stained in who knows how long and was long overdue for replacing. The owner had thought about doing so a few times, but people thought it gave the place character. Reminded them it was a part of this charming little town, a welcome respite of comfort and familiarity. Something they could count on to never change.

Near the far end of the bar sat a young woman. Her fingers curled around the nearly empty glass of brown liquid. Her deep blue eyes stared unseeing into it. She didn’t move, the slightest twitch of her fingers and the periodic pull from her beverage the only clue that she was more than a statue. She didn’t sway to the soft music playing overhead or even acknowledge the bartender except to allow him to refill her glass every once in a while.

No one moved over to say hi or ask her a question. 

No one tried to break past the barrier of abject aloof sadness cocooning her from the rest of the world.

The door squeaked open, absently closing as boots clipped confidently across the hardwood floor. A body settled down on the seat next to the girl. “Scotch,” the newcomer spoke as the bartender carefully meandered over. As he turned to fill the order, he was stopped, “No, make that a bourbon.”

“Raelle likes bourbon.” Scylla whispered, voice croaking from non-use. Her eyes never left her glass. 

Her neighbor was silent.

Scylla swallowed thickly, “She says it isn’t moonshine, but it gets the job done. She...she likes the taste. Her dad would...when it got cold, her family has a recipe for this...this hot toddy drink.” Her eyelashes fluttered as her voice shook, “When her mom wasn’t looking or was away, her dad would sneak her some when she was a kid.” She shrugged, “It had bourbon in it.” She quickly tossed back the rest of her drink, signaling for another as the bartender appeared with the bourbon.

“Ramshorn.” Anacostia sighed.

“Don’t.” Scylla ground out. “Don’t act like this wasn’t going to happen.”

“You can’t do this to yourself.”

“Do what?” she chuckled, no humor in her tone, “Get a drink? Have we lost that freedom, too?” A jagged smirk, "Drink up, Sarge. A toast to the glorious army, sending soldiers to die because that's what good little soldiers do. Don't question. Don't wonder. Do as your told the moment you are forced to take the oath until they bury you in the ground."

“Raelle wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“Well, Raelle isn’t here is she!” Scylla finally tipped to the side, allowing glassy eyes blazing with grief to pin down the officer, “She isn’t here. She was left somewhere in China because your military doesn’t give a damn about anyone who isn’t General Alder and whoever else feeds your need for power and enslavement.” 

Anacostia watched quietly as emotions flickered across Scylla’s face. The necro tried desperately to hold it all in, not show how broken she was inside. The cracks were visible, though.

“Everything. _Everything_ I have ever loved was taken from me because we have never been given a chance to be who we want to be. Raelle...she didn’t want to be a soldier. She didn't want to be in the army.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Anger burned bright, “How dare you. Raelle,”

“Helped people,” Anacostia cut in. “She helped people, Ramshorn. You know better than me how she could fix others. How she protected others.”

“Don’t,” Scylla shook her head, blindly reaching for her glass and tipping the contents down her throat. She snapped the glass back down onto the bar, “Raelle was good. She...she liked to dance. She...she’d do the stupidest things but they were so damn charming. She wasn’t as tough as she acted. She…” Scylla trailed off, the first tear trickling down her cheek. 

Anacostia nodded her chin, “Go home, Scylla.”

“Where’s that?” Scylla’s lips trembled.

Another sigh.

“You know.” Scylla cleared her throat, working to calm down. Her hands shook. “Raelle gave me a ring, once.” 

Anacostia’s eyes widened.

“Yeah,” Scylla continued, “It was...she’d made it from a piece of grass. _Grass_. She was drunk. They’d been celebrating something, and she walked all the way across base to give me this piece of grass.” A choked laugh, “She was the one who ruined your precious parade field.”

What sounded like “Knew it was Collar” muttered under Anacostia’s breath.

Scylla gestured, “She gave me this ring and told me she wasn’t going anywhere.” She paused for a second to collect herself, words stuck in her chest, “Then, she gave me a charm, and you took that from me, too.”

It had been ripped off, lost in the melee as Scylla was dragged away from the Bellweather wedding.

Her hands fiddled with her glass. Restless. Bordering on wild. 

“Collar loved you.”

The fragile damn broke. Scylla’s face crumbled. Her head bent, loose hair sweeping forward to block the rapidly falling tears from view.

“Before she left, she asked me to do what I could for you. To get them to take it easy on you because there is _good_ inside of you. She believed in you. I’m not going to let you do to yourself what that prison would have. Prove to me she wasn’t wrong about you.”

With that Anacostia stood up. She tossed a few bucks onto the bar and strode away.

Scylla didn’t watch her go. 

_“Yeah, see, it’s...I like you. A lot. And I want to be with you. I’m with you. There’s all this stuff and you are very pretty but you sometimes don’t talk to me, which is fine, but I like talking with you because you’re pretty inside, too.” Raelle waved her hands, “And I want to hear everything you ever tell me. Always. I want you to know I missed you and I like you and I’m not going anywhere you aren’t. And rings sort of do that. It’s not...it’s grass. Like a plant. Not metal or anything. You like plants. Mushrooms. Which aren’t plants but sort of are. Like this is sort of a ring. I’m not like...it’s not a_ _ring_ _ring because I like you, but I haven’t even taken you to see this big field that’s by my house and you still won’t tell me what your favorite ice cream flavor is so I got you this instead.” She pouted, “It’s sort of small and I already sort of broke it once but I’m gonna make you something better, and I hope you like it because you deserve one and it'll protect you when I can't.”_

Scylla viciously stood up on unsteady feet. She shoved her hand into her pocket, extracting a few wadded up bills and coins. She dropped them unceremoniously on the bar and clumsily walked away.

_“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had.” Raelle confessed._

_Scylla’s breath stuttered at the declaration._

_Raelle continued, “You make everything ok. You make me ok.”_

She staggered out of the bar, the burst of fresh air hitting her hard. She shuffled over to the brick wall and pressed a hand against it. 

_“We should get you to bed, baby.”_

_Raelle grumbled, “‘m dancin’.” She blindly scrambled to catch one of Scylla’s hands, clasping it after a few seconds and half successfully mimicking a more traditional dancing pose. “Few more minutes, Scyl. Dance with me a few more minutes.”_

She clutched at her chest, fingertips digging into her shirt and knuckles turning white with effort. 

_“Why, Private Ramshorn, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me.”_

_“Impossible.” she joked, “I’m just using you for the sex.”_

_“That hurts my heart.” She tapped her chest, “Right here.”_

_“Truth hurts, babe.”_

_“Ouch.” she clutched her shirt, “Dagger straight through.”_

Scylla fell to her knees, curling up into a ball. 

_“Prove to me she wasn’t wrong about you.”_

_“Prove to me she wasn’t wrong about you.”_

_“Prove to me she wasn’t wrong about you.”_

Wiping at her face, Scylla peered drunkenly at her palms. Gaze ticked over the creases and lines. With a sniffle, she lightly traced an S on her palm, “Hey, babe.”

She could almost feel the chin rest on her shoulder, nose nuzzling her cheek and arms wrapping around her from behind. 

Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Scylla let herself pretend for a moment. Pretend that Raelle hadn’t been killed in battle. That the last time they saw each other, Raelle hadn’t been broken and Scylla couldn’t do anything to fix it.

_“I feel broken, thanks to you.”_

“I miss you.” Scylla whispered to the wind.

“I’m right here, Beautiful.” Raelle’s voice echoed in her mind, “Found the prettiest girl on base. Even if you’re just using me for the sex.”

Scylla snorted, “Sex is pretty good.”

Raelle would have puffed up her chest at that, “Damn right, it is.”

Scylla whimpered, “I never used you. Not like that. Not like...anything. I love you.”

“I know. I’m pissed you still haven’t told me your favorite ice cream flavor, though.”

“Dark chocolate.”

“Hmmm...not too sweet. Mysterious. Sexy. Like you.”

“Smooth, Collar.”

“I can be.”

A tremor rocked her body, "Goddess, you can be so stupid." Her voice cracked, "Why were you so stupid?"

"Part of the charm. What drew you in, in the first place."

"No," the tears came hot and fast, "if you hadn't gone back. If you'd stayed on that bat."

"And lose the kid? You know I'm a sucker for kids."

A sob built in her chest, threatening to crash like a giant wave, "You like kids. You want kids."

"Cute ones. Like you." Lips ghosted over her pulse point, "You are so beautiful."

“Hey, are you ok?” a voice rang out.

Scylla startled, eyes popping open. Somehow she had fallen against the building, splayed out across the brick and sidewalk. A couple, a boy and girl no older than her, stood a few feet away, looks of concern painted on their features.

Slowly standing up, Scylla nodded. 

“You sure?”

Raelle was gone. She had never even been there.

“Yes,” Scylla got out, “I’m good.”

With hesitant acceptance, the couple walked away.

Scylla took a deep breath and did the same.


End file.
